


i bring scientists (you bring a rockstar)

by pseudoanalytics



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Found Family Dynamics, Getting Together, Ghost Drifting, Jurassic Park References, K-Science (Pacific Rim), Kidnapping, M/M, Making Out, Mission Fic, Post Recovery Newt, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018), Team as Family, fluff with plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-24
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-04-27 03:52:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14417097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudoanalytics/pseuds/pseudoanalytics
Summary: "Gottlieb!" Pentecost says over the phone. "How's it going?""V-Very well. Thank you." An idea occurs to Hermann. Something to say that might secretly alert them to the danger. “Newton and I have been getting along very well.”“That’s good. That’s good,” Jake says. He doesn’t seem to realize anything is amiss.Hermann frowns. “No, I said Newton and I are really working well together.”“Oh!” says Jake. “I get it now. Congratulations, Gottlieb! Certainly took you and Geiszler long enough!”The connection flickers and cuts off.“What the hell was that?” Amara hisses.Hermann is still a little stunned. “I was— I was trying to say something out of character to tip them off.”“How would that be out of character?”Hermann spins, outraged. “How would itnotbe?”





	i bring scientists (you bring a rockstar)

**Author's Note:**

> mako mori is alive and happy
> 
> PROVE ME WRONG

"Aw, shit," Newt says, looking at his computer. "Shit, shit, _shit_." He pushes his feet on his desk and launches his rolling chair backward in frustration. "Finally get the Precursors out of my head, and they're  _still_  finding ways to screw me over."

Hermann is giving him an unamused stare, but jokes on him because he's doing it over the rim of his glasses and Newt loves that look. So he wins anyway.

After a moment, it becomes apparent that Hermann isn't going to ask and is perfectly content with waiting until Newt inevitably gives up the information without prompting, but fuck that. He won't get such an easy victory. So Newt rolls back to his desk and pretends he's working on other things even though he's not, because Hermann is still staring at him and holy shit does the guy ever blink?

In the end, the moisture levels of Hermann's corneas outlast Newt's need to share his frustration. "Aren't you gonna ask?"

"I figured you were bound to share anyway," Hermann sniffs, "but if it makes you happy... Newt, whatever is the matter?"

See that's what Newt likes most about Hermann since the Precursors mess. He's the same stubborn bastard Newt knows and loves, but he's a little more lenient. More willing to placate Newt.

"I was just checking my email," gripes Newt, running a hand through his hair, "and I got a bunch of old stuff. I guess I'm still on mailing lists and shit even though I haven't had access to this address in basically ten years, which really should point out a flaw in PPDC security and the like because if old employees still are getting emails delivered to their accounts, it's not entirely out of the question that they might be able to see info they aren't cleared to see anymore. Because honestly, a PPDC server is hard as fuck to crack, I mean you helped code it, but an email? Kids' stuff. I think even _I_  could hack it, and you know I'm pretty terrible at any tech that isn't a scientific instrument or has more than two buttons—" 

"Newton," Hermann interrupts. "Your point, please."

"Right. So. I was checking my email and deleting all the irrelevant ones when I found this notice of acquisition suggestion." Newt grabs his laptop off the desk and hauls it over to Hermann. He drops the clunky thing onto the stack of yellow legal pad pages that Hermann was kinda sort of possibly working on previously. "Look. Right here. It's for Mega-Kaiju, which honestly, we need to rename. Someone needs to call up Tendo and get his input again because no one else here is any good at creative names and he really saved The Big Fellow by dubbing him Raijin. Anyway. It's some conservation crew in Mt. Fuji. They must have had my email from way back when. And here they are offering me first dibs on organ extraction." His sigh blends into a squawking sound of rage. Newt slaps the desk with both hands and spins away, a knuckle in his mouth.

Hermann watches him, mildly concerned. "And?"

"And what?" Newt screeches. "And I obviously didn't reply because I was busy kicking aliens out of my head! That was a triple-conjoined kaiju. Samples from that thing could have helped crack our how-to-open-our-own-Breach-and-attack-first problem wide open. By now the specimen will have decomposed away. There's no way they've been keeping that massive thing properly conserved."

Hermann sighs deeply, understanding the problem. "I'm very sorry, Newton. This _is_  incredibly disappointing."

"Yeah, well." Newt slams his laptop shut and stomps back to his own desk. "Let's go get something to eat. I'm pissed off and I won't get anything else done right now anyway."

Hermann frowns down at his crumpled papers. "I don't think I'll get much work done either." He reaches for his cane and stands to follow Newt out. "If you talk with your mouth full again I reserve the right to move tables."

"Ha! Empty threats, dude. Who're you going to sit with? The cadets?"

Hermann sniffs lightly, they launch into a sustained argument, and the email is forgotten.

 

* * *

 

Two days later, they remember.

A young cadet walks in with a notice from Marshal Mori, issued from her hospital bed.

"What's this?" Hermann asks, already fumbling to put his reading glasses on. "Newton?" He glances across the room. "You might want to read this."

Newt drops the old x-ray he's looking at and hops out of his chair. "Another conference for us to ignore? You can tell them we are _not_  interested in permanently locking our knowledge away into the only-accessible-to-the-privileged shithole of academia."

Hermann, who normally emphatically agrees with him at this point, only stares at him and passes over the paper. "Newton, it's another suggestion of acquisition. For Mega-Kaiju."

"What?" Newt snatches the paper out of Hermann's hand. He doesn't seem to mind that it's crumpled. "That's impossible. It— it— it doesn't make sense! By now it would have _had_  to decompose..."

"The Kaiju Blue would have long evaporated and turned to bloodmist," Hermann adds.  

Newt's eyebrows furrow further in shock. "Uh. Yeah, dude. It should have. Yeah."

"Then this should, mathematically speaking, be impossible." Hermann scrambles to his chalkboard. "The rate of decay... times how long it's been since its death... Even if you _add in_  the conservation team's efforts..." His numbers trail off until he sets down the chalk. "Newton, do you have _any_  flesh samples remaining? We have to recreate the temperature conditions of Mount Fuji in these last few months. We have to see if there's any way for the organs to remain intact."

" _Or_ ," Newt blurts, "we could go there as per the acquisition notice and see for ourselves. Maybe they accidentally discovered a new conservation method."

Hermann gives him a look. He also gives the cadet a side-eye like, _are you seeing this?_

Newt gives them both a huge shrug. 

"Newt, we can't just waste time going to Mount Fuji just to find a skeleton. Our work is needed here."

Newt smiles like the smug asshole he is. He holds up the paper. "Actually, I'm pretty sure we have permission."

Hermann frowns.

 

* * *

 

"Alright, alright. I said  _alright_ ," Nate shouts to the cadets as Jake stands silently beside him.

They slow down their treadmills and set down their weights. In the corner, Suresh, still trying to recover from his injuries, wobbles and drops his considerably smaller dumbbell.

"We have a mission," Jake says. "From Mako."

Nate nods. "We're sending five of you with Drs Gottlieb and Geiszler to Mount Fuji. They need protection and support with collecting kaiju remains."

The cadets all shift nervously. Amara makes eye contact with Jake and doesn't look away, her expression unchanged.

"The kaiju is dead," he reminds them. "It's just a retrieval job. The better samples we can collect for Newt, the sooner we can go kick some Precursor ass, okay?" 

"I'm going," Amara says.

Nate sighs. "Now hold on—"

"I'm _going_."

Jake looks at Nate and cracks a slight smile.

Vik loops her arm around one of Jinhai's. "Then we are too."

"I'm going." Suresh awkwardly stands up. "Or I mean, I _want_  to go. If I can, please, sir."

"You can't go if I can't," Ilya says. He rests a hand gently on Suresh's shoulder.

Nate throws his hands in the air. "Okay. Fine. Whatever."

"I told you," Jake laughs. He points a finger at Nate, circling it closer to his face. "I told you, man."

Nate dodges and walks out, shaking his head. Jake takes a second to lean against the doorframe, still chuckling with his head thrown back. He shoots them all a thumbs up before jogging out after his partner.

Suresh blinks. "So, uh. We don't have any jaegers. Are we going on foot?"

All he gets in reply are the shrugs of the other cadets and the low whir of Jinhai restarting his treadmill.

 

* * *

 

Moyulan's weather has been overwhelmingly temperate lately, so Hermann has to actually dig through boxes of his old stuff to find his parka.

Newt takes one look at it when Hermann walks into the lab and goes all melty. "Aw man. You still have that thing? God, it's even uglier than I remember. Bring it in." He wraps Hermann and the coat in a big hug, and somehow it doesn't feel like he really hates it all that much.

For his part, Newt is in flannel underwear with his trademark white button-up and a leather jacket that smells so musty, he can't have pulled it out at all in the past ten years. "Newt, you'll freeze dressed like that," Hermann snaps. "This isn't a seaside shatterdome in Hong Kong; this is the summit of Mount Fuji."

"I got warmer stuff packed," Newt says vaguely. "Don't worry so much." He grabs his luggage case and even snatches Hermann's.

Hermann tries not to be thankful but seeing that old jacket is making him feel a little sentimental himself.

They walk out of the lab and head for the loading bay.

The crates upon crates of scientific equipment are already there, as well as the five cadets they know are accompanying them on the trip. Newt seems to think it'll be a bit like a mystery vacation, but Hermann knows they're both wary about what they might find when they get there. A kaiju that's months old but still in near-perfect condition? It's a red flag if ever they heard one.

Marshal Mori is there too. She's still in a wheelchair, but her half-undercut shows off the badass scarring on the right side of her face. And apparently Raleigh Beckett is finally back, because he's standing beside her as well.

They're two parts of a whole for sure. Now even more so. Raleigh's left side has been shot since his brother's death, and now Mako's right has seen better days. Newt bets they could still give Jake and Nate a run for their money in a jaeger.

A little twinge in his skull says they never would have stood a chance against his Obsidian Fury, but the wiggle of pride there is _definitely_  Precursor echoes, so he shakes himself and hauls his and Hermann's luggage to the ramp of their plane.

Hermann gives Mako and Raleigh an awkward salute until Newt slaps his hand away.

On the other side, Jake knocks one of the cadet's shoulders with a weaker than normal smile. "Stay safe out there, Small-y."

She scoffs back. "I can take care of myself."

"Yeah, I know. Now take care of these two." Jake jerks his chin toward the scientists, and Hermann feels his hand come up again, this time in an awkward wave, before he can stop it. The youngest looking boy returns it.

"Doctor Gottlieb," Mako says, and Hermann spins as quickly as he can in his unwieldy coat. "Good luck on your mission."

"Um, right. Thank you, Marshal." He nods sharply.

"Keep a close eye on Newt for me, doctor."

He looks at her carefully. "I don't think... His mind is secure. He shouldn't have any troubles."

Mako smiles now, brushing the long side of her hair from her face. "I didn't mean that. I meant because it's a kaiju, and he has always been susceptible to poor judgment in his excitement."

Hermann smiles too, his fears assuaged. "Yes. I suppose he has." 

"Okay, okay!" calls Newt in his shrillist voice to be overheard despite the plane's engines. He's probably the only one capable of the pitches to do so. "All aboard! Next stop: Mount Fuji, Japan!"

Hermann shakes his head in a facsimile of frustration that has rapidly deteriorated over the years. Then he stomps off toward the plane, pretending it doesn't warm something inside him that Newt waits for him instead of sprinting on.  

The inside of the plane is cushier than most PPDC accommodations, which means it's probably a Shao Industries job. The seats are covered in white leather and look about as comfortable as plane seats ever come. They're arranged in groups of four, facing each other with tables in the middle.

Newt picks a window seat, and Hermann sits across from him so they can talk easier. On the other side of the aisle, three cadets slide in to one booth and the other two sit directly behind them.

Newt grins. "Hey there. Excited? Hermann, say hello to the nice cadets like a normal human would."

Hermann shoots him a glare. "I happen to have met them before. I was on base when most of them first arrived." 

"Really? What are their names?" 

"Er... Um..." Hermann internally curses himself as he feels his ears turn red.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Newt spins back toward the cadets who are all looking at them with odd, indecipherable expressions. "I'm Newt. Please don't call me Dr. Geiszler. Only my mother calls me that. You are?"

The girl Jake called Small-y speaks first. "I'm Amara."

Newt's eyebrows shoot up. "Oh shit! Amara Nemani! Great work out there. I mean, great work to all of you, but wow. You really took down Mega-Kaiju, didn't you! Cool stuff."

She nods, glancing to her other two friends first. "Yep. That's me."

Hermann swallows. As per usual, Newt isn't reading the room. It's _his_  kaiju, as far as the cadets are concerned, and the last real memory they have of him is as the villian who caused the whole second near-apocalypse.

"Vik," the blond girl says in a Russian accent. Hermann thinks of the Kaidonovskys and rubs the lapel of his parka. He's met a lot of Russians over the years, but that couple meant quite a bit to him.

"Jinhai." The boy gives them a winning smile and leans across the aisle to shake Newt's hand. "I think this'll be fun."

"I'm Ilya," says another Russian, this one a boy. "And this is Suresh."

The cadet who waved to Hermann earlier leans around his partner. "Hi."

"Amara, Vik, Jinhai, Ilya, Suresh," Newt mutters quietly. "Got it! You might all have to remind me a couple times."

"He _is_  getting older, and his memory's not quite what it used to be," Hermann quips.

"What the fuck?" says Newt, scandalized. "First off, I am _not_  getting old—"

"And of course you would take more offense to _that_  than the implication that your memory—"

"—know that I can still recite the entire periodic table _with_  the atomic masses to the fourth decimal place—"

"—complete disregard for the importance of age in academic fields of study—"

"—and beyond that it's just _rude_  and inaccuracies aside, I—"

"—considering your wardrobe and its components—"

The cadets slipped in earphones and pulled out books. Suresh looked out the window at the tarmac.

It was going to be a long flight.

 

* * *

 

Hermann jolts awake in near darkness. The plane lights are lowered to a dim yellow glow, and everything outside the plane is pitch black.  

Newton is flopped half on the dividing table, asleep with his glasses askew.

Across the aisle, the cadets have spread out through the plane, claiming double seats to lay across like terrible beds.

Hermann's laptop screen is blank, and he hopes it has gone into hibernation and not just run out of battery. He doesn't know why he'd assumed he would get any work done on the way over. With several pops of his spine, he shuffles out of the seats and grabs his cane. Hermann makes his unstable way down to the rear of the plane where the restroom is located.

When he gets back, Newt has slid more to the side and is drooling onto the smooth surface his face is mashed upon.

Rolling his eyes, Hermann sits in the seat next to Newt, trying to help situate him. Instead of waking up as his glasses are removed, Newt slouches over until his head is in Hermann's lap. He hikes his feet up onto his seat unconsciously, and with a smack of his lips, continues to sleep.

Hermann sits, trapped. His seat doesn't recline and now there is no wall to slump into, so by all accounts, he should be ridiculously uncomfortable.

But Newt is half-curled in his lap.

He glances at the cadets, all completely out cold. He glances back down at Newt.

Then with an unsteady hand, he begins to fingercomb and pat Newt's unruly hair. If he drools onto Hermann's pants, he'll be very pissed off.

 

* * *

 

The plane touches down in the private airstrip of the Mount Fuji Conservation Facility.

The passengers disembark and stumble, drowsy and stiff, onto the airfield. Newt takes off walking as if he has a mission, so Hermann and the cadets follow as best as they can.

The main building looks like a rustic airplane hanger, complete with metallic ridged walls and a faded red MFCF painted in multiple alphabets on the front. The huge doors are open, and that's where Newt is headed. He walks in to find a dilapidated center of command, with rickety go-carts on huge all-terrain wheels travelling around the base and rusty beams supporting old fashioned tech. A few glowing specimen jars have kaiju bits from Onibaba and even Mutavore, if the labels are to be believed.

Newt is shaking his head when Hermann finally catches up. "Uh uh. No way. These guys can't have kept Mega-Kaiju in any decent condition. Look at this place. It's ancient."

Hermann has to concede that Newt has a point. "It doesn't look good, does it?"

Jinhai pulls Amara out of the way as a worker holding a heavy barrel nearly bumps into her.

"Well, well, well! Would you look what the kaiju dragged in!" calls a voice, and Newt turns to see a familiar face walking down from creaking scaffolding. 

"Tendo! My man!" he shouts.

Hermann doesn't even try to hide his smile as he hurries to join them. "Tendo Choi... Whatever are you doing here?"

Tendo cracks his knuckles, seemingly instinctively. "Oh, a bit of this; a bit of that. Since I retired, the Beckett boy and I have been traveling the Pan Pacific. Doing public appearances — him mostly — and helping with restoration work — me mostly. It's been fun, if you don't count his broken leg in California."

"What happened?" Hermann asks. He'd missed most of the welcoming party when Raleigh had returned, on account of him being busy helping Newt recover.

Tendo shrugs casually. "Freak accident. Rolled his ankle and took a tumble down a hill. I'll never let him live it down. It's a sore subject for the man. He wanted nothing more than to fly over the minute you guys were having trouble, but, you know, he wouldn't have been any help, and the last thing your base needed was another person taking up space in medical."

"So what are you doing here?" Newt asks. "Coming to see us?"

"No, actually. Not to insult you or anything. I just heard about all the PPDC cleanup going on because of Sankaku and wanted to help out."

"Sankaku?" asks Newt at the same time that Hermann asks, "PPDC?"

Tendo blinks at them both. "Christ, you two have gotten worse since I last saw you. Uh, Sankaku is the huge triple kaiju, and yeah, brother. PPDC's been all over that thing. Won't let us get anywhere near it, I guess."

"First off, Sankaku is lightyears better than Mega-Kaiju. Second, as far as we knew, we were the first PPDC people out here," Newt says.

Now Tendo's easygoing smile drops a little. "That doesn't make sense. They've been up there for months drilling into that thing. Said they've been shipping it off for K-Science." 

Hermann's pulse starts to race as Newt's eyebrows furrow. "We haven't seen jackshit of anything they've been harvesting up there." He spins to the cadets. "Come on. I wanna know what the _fuck_  is going on here."

"Geiszler!" Tendo calls. "You can't _walk_ up the mountain. Take a cart." He throws a set of keys that Newt fumbles and fails to catch.

He scoops them off the floor anyway, and they all jog to the nearest vehicle. Newt jumps into the driver's seat, and Hermann hefts himself into the passenger side. Suresh and Vik sit behind them and the other three scramble into the flatbed.

"There don't seem to be any seatbelts or handholds," Hermann says nervously, but then Newt is cranking the keys in the ignition and pressing the gas pedal flat to the floor. The tires skid and scream, the chains on the wheels tearing into the dirt floor.

A mass shout echoes from Newt's passengers as he veers out of the hanger and up the snowy road to the summit. Hermann grabs his cane with one hand, braces his good leg against the dashboard, and wraps his left arm around the back of his seat in desperation.

"We're gonna die!" Suresh warbles as Newt takes a turn on two wheels to avoid flattening a group of workers.

Hermann's heart is hammering in his ears, but once they cross a red spray-painted line in the snow, no other MFCF personnel seem to appear. Amara finally lets out a whoop, which Vik and Jinhai tenuously reciprocate. Then Ilya shouts with joy, wind whipping his hair flat. 

"For a golf cart, this thing really moves!" Newt screams over the rush.

"It's fitted with ATV parts!" Amara shouts back. "Look!"

Hermann doesn't see what she's pointing to from his angle. Newt must though, because he nods and shrugs. His face is pulled into a huge grin, one Hermann hasn't seen since they saved the world together. The cadets in the back look like the teens they are, bouncing up and down as the cart jolts and screaming with laughter as the wind blinds them.

He tries to relax his tense muscles and finds they slowly do. The road is relatively straight, if bumpy, and the frigid air feels refreshing as it stings his face. He lets a shrill laugh of his own leak out and spends the rest of the ride pretending he doesn't see Newt's occasional look of wonder aimed in his direction.

They finally see a huge roadblock up ahead, and Newt relinquishes the abused gas pedal. They rattle into a makeshift clearing that is being used as a vehicle parking lot and everyone climbs out.

"Hey there!" Newt says walking up. He flashes his PPDC credential badge. "Here to see Sankaku!" He starts past the block, but a burly man in a black jumpsuit shoves him back and he topples into the snow. "Hey! What the fuck!"

Hermann grabs him by the jacket before Newt can march up to the guard again.

"This place is off limits. PPDC orders," the man says.

"Yeah, okay, and uh, as you can see here," Newt squacks, "I'm PPDC. Newt Geiszler. K-Science division. And this is my lab partner, Hermann Gottlieb and my cadet escorts from Moyulan." 

"Doctors," says Hermann tensely. "We're both doctors."

The guard glares at Newt. "Let me see your credentials."

Newt waves his badge angrily until the man takes it. He walks it over to the guard in a small, enclosed booth. Hermann looks at the shack. It's wooden, but painted gray, and has the PPDC logo stenciled on its side. He squints at it. Something seems off, but he doesn't know enough about the logo to disprove it.

The guard walks back and points at Newt. "You. Come in. The rest of you head back down."

Hermann bristles. "I think not. I have PPDC credentials too. Same as Dr. Geiszler." He holds out his own badge, but the guard won't take it. 

"I said, he comes in. You go back."

Amara steps forward. "Sir, we're authorized to go anywhere they go. He can't walk in there alone. We're his security."

Newt starts to pull away. "Okay, uh. _Clearly_  some wires have gotten crossed here. So uh, how about we go down and get confirmation from Marshal Mori that we're all cleared to enter, and we'll be right back." He tries to release the guard's grasp on his shoulder. "Hey man, let go—"

It all happens so fast that Hermann hardly tracks it. The guard tries to yank Newt past the barrier, and Vik leaps forward, grabbing for Newt's arm. The guard in the watchhouse steps out, gun raised, and Amara and Ilya jump him, knocking it to the ground. As Jinhai and Vik grapple with the man now holding Newt in a chokehold, Suresh stands protectively in front of Hermann, keeping him from the fray.

Fists fly, and Hermann can hear Newt's voice screeching his name and a million variations of "let go," but before things can get truly messy, a black armored vehicle pulls up inside the boundary. The door swings open, and a shoe steps out, covered in gold metal that clinks as it moves.

Newt climbs into a squat, free of the guard and wiping blood from his nose. "Oh _fuck_."

Hermann looks at the man, then looks at Newt. A thin, barely there memory from their drift edges into the forefront of his mind. "Hannibal Chau..." Then there's a sack over his head, a pinch in his neck, and everything falls away.

 

* * *

 

They'd all been so concerned for him, Suresh remembers. All the doctors had been certain he'd come out with PTSD, and yeah, he probably had some, from a multitude of things, but he also. Didn't. Remember.

The last thing he _can_  recall was the confidence. It had bled from Ilya across the drift connection and Suresh had never felt such a rush. 

"We've got this!" Ilya had yelled. Or maybe it had been Suresh or maybe even both of them. And then they had run. They'd attacked, yeah, foolishly. But he doesn't remember that.

He doesn't remember the drift cracking as their jaeger was destroyed. He doesn't remember lying injured, while Ilya incorrectly assumed not hearing Suresh in his head meant he was gone.

A medical team had found him hours later.

"You're lucky," a nurse had said. "Your suit and connpod crumpled in as a tourniquet. Another thirty minutes and you would have bled out."

"It's nothing short of a miracle," said a doctor, but the only miracle Suresh felt had been pain lancing through the entire lower half of his body.

He remembers Ilya crying on his shoulder, swearing and apologizing for leaving him behind. "I thought you were dead," he'd whispered. "I never would have left you if I'd known... I would have _never_..."

Strong, confident Ilya. Everything Suresh had always wanted to be.

"It's okay," he'd said, and Ilya had started crying all over again.

He also remembers the physical therapy. He _should_  still be doing it, but Nate keeps him from overtraining, and even if he isn't the bravest of the cadets, Suresh knows how to push through pain. He never would have made it this far if he didn't.

He remembers Jinhai grabbing him in a hug that lifted him off the floor and made him drop his crutches. He remembers Vik slapping his arm hard enough to leave a red mark. "Don't you _ever_  do that again. You hear me?" she'd snarled, and Suresh nodded even though he couldn't really remember what _that_  was. Renata had stood apart from them, fists clenched, before groaning, "Why couldn't you just go work with your dad and his boobs and stay away from this mess?" like she wouldn't totally have missed him if he'd gone.

He remembers the fear of being in a jaeger, just fifteen and about to face down a kaiju that had killed the veterans who had tried to intercept it first.

It was so much worse. Such an awful situation, that he wonders why he's just as scared now.

Suresh rises up out of the haze he's been stuck in again. He comes up and out and looks around and remembers. _Hannibal Chau_ , he thinks. _Why couldn't it have just been a kaiju?_

 

* * *

 

Hermann wakes up in a room much nicer than he'd expected, though he doesn't really know what he _was_  expecting to begin with. He's in a fancy, modern chair made of sleek, clear plexiglass in front of a long white table.

"Hello?" he calls, and he hears the tinkling of glass in the next room.

"One sec!" calls Newt, and Hermann relaxes. Oh good. Newt is here! He smiles and sits more comfortably in his chair. He tries to look around the room, but it's also mostly white and not really all that easy to focus on.

"Hey! Sorry about that," Newt says. He walks in with two wine glasses and a bottle, uncorked. He's in his fancy vest and dress shirt, and suddenly Hermann is uneasy again.

He's not wearing glasses.

"Newton..." Hermann starts, but Newt is already right next to him, and he pushes a finger against Hermann's lips.

"Shh, shh, shh. No talking about work right now. It's time to relax." Newt sets down the glasses and pours the first drink. The liquid is bright blue and glowing, exactly like the kaiju blood Hermann has been neutralizing for years now.

"Newton, this isn't..."

Newt shuts him up again with a hand over his mouth. "Come on. Don't refuse our generosity. Open up." The hand slides around Hermann's jaw and opens it. With his other hand, Newt takes the glass of kaiju blood and brings it to Hermann's mouth. "There you go," Newt drawls, tipping it in. "Just a little something to help you unwind after a hard day's work."

Hermann isn't struggling. He isn't sure he knows how. "You said 'our.' 'Our generosity.' Newton, is it the Precursors?"

Newt gives him a weird look. "Precursors? What? No way. I meant me and Alice." And suddenly the tank is right there next to Hermann, huge and chartreuse in the clean, white space. Newt drops the Pons on Hermann's head. "Go on and talk with her! She's been wanting to meet you. You know, I talk about you all the time and stuff." 

 _I bet she does_ , part of Hermann thinks, followed by, _You talk about me?_

Then he's drifting. It doesn't _look_  like drifting, but he knows he is, and Alice speaks to him.

"Dr. Gottlieb!" she says.

Hermann is impressed. At least she knows the importance of a title.

"Dr. Gottlieb, please!" 

Hermann tries to smile at Newt, who _must_  be standing nearby still. He wants to tell him that he's found a very nice lady with good manners...

"Dr. Gottlieb!"

And now, that isn't quite right... Newt? With a lady? No, Newt is gay, Hermann knows this. He knows it very well, because he remembers how thrilled he had been to read about it in a letter. He'd been so happy to find someone else like him... So why is Newt with a lady? That doesn't make sense. It doesn't compute...

"Hermann!"

Hermann jolts awake in a much darker, dirtier place. It's all metallic and very small, and he instantly hypothesizes the back of a stationary semi-truck.

Hermann's hands are triple ziptied to the arms of his chair, and his ankles to the legs. The chair itself is bolted to the floor.

He looks up at the frightened cadets and sees that they're in a similar position.

Newt isn't in the truck.

 _Right_ , he thinks. _Hannibal Chau._

Hermann has never met him before, but he remembers brief snatches from his drift with Newt, lightning quick before fading into the Antiverse. And of course he's read the notes and paperwork Newt had filed post-Breach closure.

 _A violent, creepy, unstable man_ , Newt had written. _I really showed him after he sent me to a public bunker, but he also stuck a penknife up my nose, so we'll call it even._

He had also said Chau was dead.

 _Everyone makes mistakes_ , Hermann hears Brain-Newt say indignantly. He waves a restricted hand to bat him away before realizing that it must look disconcerting to the cadets. Right. They may be one step shy of rangers, but they _are_  teens and he's the adult.

"So, er..." he starts eloquently. "That is— or rather, we are—"

"That man is Hannibal Chau," Vik spits. "Black market dealer. Kaiju expert. All around criminal."

"And now kidnapper," sighs Jinhai.

Hermann nods, impressed. They certainly know their stuff. Better yet, he doesn't have to talk to them. Newt has always been better at this than him.

"So obviously, we gotta," Amara's voice cracks as she yanks at her restraints, " get... _outta_  here..." 

All the cadets start pulling futilely, and even Hermann has to admit to testing the strength of the plastic strips.

Within a matter of seconds it becomes clear that no one will be getting out of _anywhere_  any time soon. Raw wrists are the only results they're seeing from their efforts.

Hermann tries to stay calm, tries to fight the panic climbing up his spine and flattening his mouth further.

Ilya spits onto the floor by his shoe. "This is _bullshit_ ," he snaps. 

"Stop," Hermann finally grits out. "This isn't working. Someone will have to come to us eventually. Save your energy for a more strategic time."

Right. Right, he can do this. This might not be numbers and equations, but it _is_  strategy and predictions. How long have they been unconscious? If he knew what they'd been drugged with, this would be much simpler. But then again... Their kidnappers knew what drug they used, so they would know approximately how long it would last. Were there cameras?

Hermann cranes his neck around, looking in the dark corners. He doesn't see any.

It's cold in the box, but not freezing, so they must be inside and not just out in the snow. There's no audible sounds, so there's probably no one around them. No vast guard patrol or surveillance workers.

So they aren't of import.

This is all about Newt.

_Think, Gottlieb. Think!_

Right. The guard at the barricade. Newt's name had tipped him off, but he'd wanted the rest of them to leave. Chau only wanted Newt, not them. So a visit might _not_  be imminent. What was the game here?

The cadets stare at him, distracting with their wide-eyed fear. Hermann shuts his eyes.

It's not torture. If so, they would already have been paraded before Newt. Chau seems an economic man. He won't waste his time on the chaff. Then why are they still alive? To avoid a mess? No. Their escape would be a bigger threat.

 _Hermann. People aren't programs. They're unpredictable_ , Brain-Newt says.

"Shut up, Newton," Hermann hisses, even though he knows he's right.

"Doctor?" Amara asks in a concerned voice.

"Sorry," he says, as though there is anyway to respond when someone catches you talking to yourself. Or rather, the mindghost of your missing lab partner that you've somehow acquired after a single drift over ten years ago.

Brain-Newt had been much louder in the months following the Breach closure. Then he'd slipped away. Forgotten. But now that Newt has been freed of the Precursors, he's back in Hermann's brain with a vengeance.

It's as infuriating as it is comforting.

 _All we know is_ , Hermann thinks to himself, _if Chau intended to kill us, he would have. If he's letting us live, it implies he intends to let us go, which means he plans to leave soon. Which means..._ Hermann freezes.

_Which means whatever has been keeping him on-site for so long will soon no longer matter._

"He needs Newt's help," Hermann finally blurts. "Something is giving him difficulties and he's pleased Newt has fallen right into his lap to help. We won't be killed or tortured. He's holding us as ransom."

"How do you figure that?" Amara asks suspiciously.

Hermann wishes he had a more cohesive answer.

 

* * *

 

"One drift!" Sasha had boomed proudly. "One drift, and we knew."

Aleksis smiled at her, all sharp teeth and chiseled jaw.

"When you're compatible, you feel it instantly," she continued. "You can drift once or a thousand times, but it's all the same. The connection never fades, even out of your jaeger. It's a door that once opened, can never be fully closed."

Hermann had nodded politely, unsure of how to respond. He'd still been relatively new. A fresh face on base. As fresh as the sting of learning that his blooming crush on the Dr. Geiszler of his letters had been horribly misplaced. But he was still an outsider. No one liked him, and he never gave anyone any reason to try.

He was aware that he was an awkward, unlikable, reclusive scientist, and attention from jaeger pilots, especially ones as famous as the Kaidonovskys, was a lot to manage.

They had stayed for nearly an hour, talking about their record-setting drift, which had happened only the day before.

"So it's like there's a little part of him... constantly tucked up in your mind?" Hermann had asked, aware that returning comments was vital to sustaining conversation.

She'd smiled too. It matched Aleksis' perfectly. "No," said Sasha, not unkindly. "You don't feel a drift like this in your head. You feel it in your heart." They both raised a hand to their chests simultaneously. "If it's all in your head, you aren't compatible."

He had nodded like he'd understood, though he didn't.

It wasn't until years later, faced with the destruction of humanity and the thought of losing Newt that he realized. He'd come out of the drift with a spinning head and an aching gut, but on the helicopter ride back, the only thing he still felt was the pounding of two hearts.

 

* * *

 

Newt watches in horror as Hermann sags, his cane dropping from his hand. A bag is yanked over his head, and Newt steps forward to intercept, only to feel a hand tighten on his shoulder.

"Hey, emissary," Hannibal sneers. "Get in the goddamn car."

Newt sputters, trying to turn and catch a glimpse of the others, but he still allows himself to be pushed into the vehicle.

Hannibal follows him in. "Bone powder?" he offered shaking a tiny baggie.

Newt slips a hand under his glasses to rub his eyes. "Please don't hurt them, alright? They're just teens. And Hermann. You _can't_  hurt Hermann."

"You help me out, you'll get em back. Bone powder?"

"Uh. No thanks. Not hungry."

Even behind his dark glasses, Hannibal clearly shoots him a disdainful look. "You don't eat bone powder. You snort it, you moron."

Newt blinks. "Right. Uh, so I'm _not_  going to do that. And I probably won't be helping you with anything with— okay, what the fuck."

Hannibal leans across and knocks Newt's glasses aside, pulling down his eyelid like he once had on a wet balcony in Hong Kong. "Hmm," he hums, though to Newt the jury's out on what that means. He finally sits back and reaches into his coat pocket for a couple photos. He passes them to Newt.

"Oh hey," Newt says. "Rippers."

An eyebrow shoots up. "So you do recognize them." 

"Uh, yeah, man. For sure. I uh, I kinda made these things." Newt squints at the pictures. They're definitely of the tiny creatures he had made to help tear apart and recombine his three kaiju in Tokyo.

 _That warm pride is_  not  _yours_ , he thinks to himself. _That's not you._

"So what's the problem."

Hannibal grinds his teeth. "What's the problem? The problem is, for the first time in ten years I've got a massive heap of goddamn kaiju, and I can't cut so much as one incision without some of these things coming to close it up. These motherfuckers dragged the whole back half to the front and closed the gap up again."

Newt blinks. "Yeah? That's their job. They can't like, reanimate it or anything. Don't worry."

Hannibal leans so close into Newt's space that he can smell the faint tinge of blood and viscera on him. Newt used to smell like that too, back before the expensive colognes and dry-cleaned clothing.

"The most expensive part of harvesting kaiju parts is?" asks Hannibal.

"Preservation," Newt fires back.

"Right. Because kaiju biodegrade and breakdown almost immediately upon death. In and out. Fast as you can. That's how you get a successful harvest."

Newt tries to squeeze back into the corner of his seat to lean away from Hannibal, but it's just not nearly effective enough. He feels a bit claustrophobic and tries not to think about it.

Hannibal grabs his jaw in a tight grip, forcing Newt to look him in the eyes. "So why is it that _your_  mutant kaiju, is preserving itself? I'm not paying a goddamn dime to keep it in good condition. It's _crawling_  with these little rippers of yours, keeping it intact. And unharvestable! We cut a single incision, they seal it right back up. I've lost twelve men inside that thing."

Newt shakes his face free and leans into Hannibal's space instead. The other man doesn't back up, so Newt feels incredibly uncomfortable. "So why are you asking me?"

"Because you built the damn thing!"

"I didn't... I really didn't..."

"You didn't, but something in _here_  did!" Hannibal snaps, knocking Newt's temples with two fingers. "All the others were made to self-destruct. Why was this one different?"

 _Because this time we were sure to win_ , Newt thinks to himself. _There wouldn't be any humans left, so self-destruction was pointless._

"No, not _we_. _They_ ," Newt croaks.

"What?"

"Nothing." His breath comes faster and he rubs his eyes again.

_They're gone. They're not in your head. Calm down. Calm down. It's just echoes._

"So how'd you control these things?" Hannibal asks. "Security footage shows you with some kinda tablet."

"Yeah, man. I, uh, I programmed them I guess. Look, the details are kinda fuzzy, but I don't really remember—"

The car lurches to a halt, interrupting him.

"Save it, lunch-meat," Hannibal snaps. "Come on."

Newt is dragged bodily out of the car to see a massive warehouse, clearly shoddily and quickly constructed.

"Welcome to your new lab. Actually, it's mine, but I'm letting you borrow it."

Newt walks in and feels a bubble of joy that's finally his. "Oh my god," he whispers reverently. It's a sweet setup. Screens and tech everywhere, albeit in terrible shape, and tanks of collected rippers, bubbling furiously in ammonia. 

He gives a gentle pat to a nearby monitor. The screen crackles and briefly goes black, but when he jerks his hand back, it stabilizes.

Maybe not as sweet as he thought.

Then again, old-Newt was used to this sort of slammed together garbage. Not everything is Shao Industries sleek.

 _Focus, Newton_ , says a weird voice that sounds like Hermann.

 _Oh great. Looks like Mind-Hermann is back_ , Newt sighs internally. _Here to insult me again?_

 _I only did that because I'm terrible at social interaction and had no idea how to approach someone who was not only on my mental level, but also whom I was harboring the beginning of feelings for_ , Mind-Hermann shoots back.

Newt shrugs. _Your words, not mine, buddy._

He walks up to the computer closest to the Rippers and taps the spacebar to wake the monitors. "So what do you want from me here?"

Hannibal walks up behind him, shoes clinking. "Make them stop closing my incisions and attacking my harvesters. But keep the kaiju preserved. You got that?"

"I don't know if I can—" Newt hears the knife before he sees it, but he also knows exactly where it's going, giving him just enough time to cover his already bloody nose with one hand. He gets a prick to the back of it for his troubles, but then Hannibal easily switches to pressing the point of the blade to his adam's apple. Newt swallows and feels it bob against the knife. "But I can definitely try," he amends.

"Your kids and boyfriend are counting on you," Hannibal reminds him.

Newt sputters. "What? No! They're teens, not kids. And they definitely aren't mine!"

Hannibal gives him an odd look. "Just get it done. And if you think you might need a little help..." He steps to the side and pulls a dirty tarp off the final tank.

Newt shoots back in alarm, toppling his chair, and bruising his elbow.

It's a brain. Small and _definitely_  damaged, but it's still a brain.

 _Don't panic. Don't panic._ Fuck. _Definitely panicking._ A dark static starts to take over his vision. _Help_ , he thinks. _Help me._

_You're a good man._

Newt jerks and sucks in a little air.

_Newton, you're a good man._

Right.

Right.

_You are yourself now. Not theirs. And you are inherently good. You don't have to do this._

The room finally comes back to him, and Newt straightens his glasses and hauls himself up uncertainty. _Thanks, Mind-Hermann. I'm not gonna do it again._

Hannibal is laughing. "God, the look on your face. I don't have a neural interface setup. And even if I did, I'd be stupid to let you hook up to it. You think I _want_  to destroy humanity? That was worth it though. You really shit yourself there."

Newt's pulse is still hammering away in his ribcage. He sits back in the chair, forcing himself to break eye contact with the brain. Though, is it really eye contact if it doesn't have eyes?

 _That's a problem for a different day_ , Newt thinks. For now, he's gotta figure out how to biohack the Rippers so he can get Hermann and the cadets out of here. _Let them all be alright_ , he begs. _I can't have more blood on my hands. Not Hermann's. Not these teens._

He cracks his knuckles in quick succession and starts to type.

 

* * *

 

Newt had woken up on the lab couch with a major crink in his spine.

"Shit..." he had hissed, cracking his back in multiple places. He put on his glasses and noticed an upside down cup and piece of paper on the table. The paper read, "Poisonous spider. Don't Lift Cup!!!" The cup was empty. And the rim hung over the table edge slightly. Enough for something to escape.

Newt swore again and leaped up onto the couch. His vision was still blurry with sleep.

Then Mako had walked in. She was just a kid, small and barefoot, which was just a huge violation of lab safety, especially now that there was a spider on the loose.

"Mako!" he'd screeched, before leaping, barefoot himself, across the room to lift her up off the floor. His back cracked again. She wasn't that heavy, but he was kind of out of shape, and maybe he should do something about that soon, though maybe he'd wait until the world was done ending...

"Newt!" she had said, a little crossly. She kicked her legs, demanding to be put down.

"No, stop! There's a poisonous..." Then his mind had fully woken up, and he'd come to his senses. Who would put a poisonous spider just _under a cup_? Why was the note written in a childish scribble? "Did you write that?" Newt asked, and he'd watched a slow smile spread on Mako's face. 

"Did I getcha?"

He set her down and fell into a squat as he laughed. "Oh, man. You got me so good. I was really worried there!"

"You picked me up!" She had laughed. "You were worried about me!"

And Newt had stopped laughing then, though he was still smiling. He reached up and ruffled her hair. "Of course I was. Mako. You know I would never do _anything_  that might lead to you getting hurt. _Never_."

She pushed his hand away and patted down her hair. "I know."

Newt doesn't know which of them had been more foolish to believe him.

 

* * *

 

Hermann knew someone would eventually come for them, but as container doors creak and start to open he finds he's not ready.

A woman with a shaved head and spiraling kaiju tattoo walks in. She's holding a cellphone. "We assume you were supposed to check in by evening." She holds it to Hermann's face. "You'd hate to make someone worry about you."

He swallows and starts to sweat, despite the cold.

"If I sense any funny business, I'll start knocking kids off one by one." Her smile curls dangerously. "We've got plenty to spare."

Hermann desperately works his dry mouth. "Yes. Yes, I understand." He'll have to come up with some way to secretly tell Pentecost and Lambert that something is wrong. His mind whirls as he gives Chau's associate the phone number.

The connection is terrible, no doubt inhibited by the container walls, but finally Jake's voice comes through.

"Gottlieb!" he says cheerily. "How's it going?"

"Oh, um. V-very. Very well, thank you," stutters Hermann.

The woman mouths, _Do better._  

"We landed smoothly. Y-your cadets have been amazing." An idea occurs to him. Something to say that might alert them. "Newton and I have been getting along very well."

"That's good. That's good," Jake says. He doesn't seem to realize anything is amiss.

Hermann frowns. "No, I said Newton and I are really working well together."

Jake pauses. "Yeah? Sounds like fun." He sounds more confused than anything.

The woman narrows her eyes.

"We're just doing so great together," Hermann tries.

"Oh. _Oh_ ," says Jake. "I see what you're trying to say."

Hermann jolts, and the woman reaches for the gun at her side.

"Congratulations, Dr. Gottlieb!" Jake finishes, and everyone freezes. "Wow. Certainly took you two long enough! I'm happy for you. Nate! Nate, come here! Gottlieb and Geiszler got together! No? Oh, he's busy. Giving you a thumbs up though. Nice going! Now just keep your mouths off each other long enough to get those kaiju samples and get back home. Just wait until I tell Mako. She's gonna _flip_."

"Yes, well, I uh..." Hermann stammered.

"Right, right. You gotta go. Busy man, Gottlieb! Talk to you in a week. Pentecost out."

The phone flicks off.

The woman gives Hermann a look. "You really are an odd one," she says. Then she turns and walks out, slamming the door behind her.

"What the hell was that?" Amara hisses.

Hermann is still a little stunned. "I was— I was trying to say something out of character to tip them off.”

Suresh glances at the other cadets before turning back to Hermann. "How would that be out of character?"

"What? How would it _not_?" Hermann says, outraged.

He receives five blank stares in reply. He really doesn't understand people. 

_God, I wish Newton were here._

 

* * *

 

Tendo pours himself another mug of coffee. Outside it's lightly snowing and the sky is growing dark.

 _They should really be back by now_ , he thinks.

The worry briefly settles in his stomach, but he passes it off as too much caffeine and too little sustenance.

_Geiszler's probably neck deep in kaiju right now, and Gottlieb and the cadets are having a hell of a time convincing him they gotta get back._

He huffs a laugh and pulls his coat tighter.

They'll be back. How much trouble can those two possibly get into anyway?

 

* * *

 

Newt slams his fist onto the desk. "Mother _fucker_ ," he spits, shaking it out in pain.

The code output on his screen reads yet another error. He knew he couldn't figure it out in a night, but he thought he might get further than this.

He stands up to stretch his legs and finds himself irresistibly drawn the the kaiju brain.

"Hi," he says and it reaches out a tubular appendage, knocking on the glass. He pushes his palm flat against it.

He's not going to drift with it. He's just going to study it. That surge of disappointment isn't his, but that burst of curiosity is.

Newt gives the tank a little pat. "You need a name."

He sits back at the keyboard and spins around in his chair for a bit.

The clink of metal means Hannibal is approaching, so Newt tries to quickly look like he's busy.

"How's it coming?"

"It's uh. It's coming. Not great."

"What's the holdup?"

Newt turns to explain and gets an eyeful of Hannibal Chau in his gaudy maroon bathrobe and skintight pajamas. He tries to maintain eye contact. "Well, the last time I did this, I had alien knowledge transplanted into my mind. And coffee."

Hannibal sighs. "What do you need? Whatever you want, we'll get it."

Now _this_  Newt can work with. "I want a coffee station. And some carbs. Bagels, chips, pasta, I'm not picky. I need a dissection setup and as many Rippers as I can get. I want a safety apron, some gloves, your Kaiju Blue neutralization kits, an array of scalpels..." He hesitates. "And Hermann. I want Hermann."

Hannibal opens his mouth and Newt steamrolls through him. "I _need_  Hermann because he's still the better programmer, and with him here, I bet it'll get done twice as fast. You have to let the cadets go too. I need lab assistants and I won't work knowing you have them locked up god knows where. Also, I get to keep and take back samples. Whatever I want. Those are my conditions."

Hannibal waves a hand at him tiredly. "Fine. Fine. Hit the sack and we'll have that all ready for you by tomorrow. Just get it done."

Newt grins and fistbumps himself. Mind-Hermann would be proud.

 

* * *

 

Jinhai had jolted awake to absolute silence.

"Oh no," he breathed, leaping out of bed. The room was empty, which meant the other cadets had all left for training. "Why did no one wake me up?" he grumbled, suppressing a cough.

He fumbled into his uniform, inhibited by his aching joints, and jogged down the hall. He took a break to sneeze in Corridor C before racing further toward the weights room.

Jinhai crashed inside, not even noticing the startled faces of his fellow cadets.

"Sorry... I'm late..." he wheezed, and the coughing burst free in his chest, wet and loose.

"Hey," Ranger Lambert said. He was frowning, but Jinhai knew he always frowned.

"I'm fine," he insisted. He couldn't fall behind. Sure he was a little under the weather, but being the upbeat, positive one who pushed through was kinda his thing. He tried to give his commanding officer a reassuring smile, but there were spots floating in his eyes, so he couldn't see if it worked.

His vision tunneled and his pulse hadn't calmed down from his run over, and he thought Ilya was saying something, but he couldn't hear over the rush in his ears.

Jinhai came to on his back with everyone standing around him and staring down worriedly.

"Did I pass out?" he croaked.

"Yep," said Renata helpfully. "Just for a second. I caught you."

"Oh. Cool. Thanks."

"Malikova," Ranger Lambert said, "Take Ou-Yang back to the barracks. You're both excused from training for the day."

"Yes, sir!" Vik shouted. Then she hoisted him up and slung his arm over her shoulders.

They limped back, Jinhai's face burning with embarrassment and fever. "Sorry," he said.

She hadn't smiled, but she hadn't glared at him either. "Don't worry about it. Focus on getting better."

They kicked the door open together, and she helped him up his ladder into his bunk.

"Thanks," he tried again.

"It's just what drift partners do."

Jinhai smiled. They were matched up pretty evenly according to the sims.

"You're so close to perfect compatibility," Ranger Lambert always said. "You're just missing a little something."

"Hey," Jinhai wheezed. "Can you stay?"

She froze. Hesitated.

"I mean, you don't have to. I guess you don't wanna get sick too," he amended.

"No. It's fine." She jumped up next to him, sitting with her legs dangling. "I was just surprised you wanted me here." It had been a rare moment of weakness, and Jinhai took it as the olive branch that it was.

"Why wouldn't I? Like you said, it's what drift partners do."

She'd laughed dryly. "Strangely, after being in my head, people are even _less_  likely to want to be around me."

"No, no!" He propped himself up on an elbow. "I think you're pretty great."

She gave him a tired smile and ran a hand through her blond hair. It looked soft. "That's because you're different, Jinhai. You have a lot of love in you."

He had always known that. He could feel it burning in him at any given moment.

"I feel it sometimes. When we drift. You have a big heart that can fit multiple people."

He had tried and failed not to blush. "So do you, Vik. Don't deny it. I can feel that too. You have just as much love in you. You just don't know how to part with any of it."

She had looked away and Jinhai had hoped he hadn't gone too far. "I'm waiting for the day I know who I can trust with it." 

Now he knows if he asked her she would also remember. She would remember the way the drift had felt when Amara had joined their three-man rig.

It had felt like a puzzle piece they had never realized was missing to begin with.

Amara had stumbled, then turned to look at them. The drift stabilized, and over the roar of excitement of being in a real jaeger, she had felt it.

Because if Jinhai had a lot of love to give, then Vik easily had twice that.

 

* * *

 

"Alright, alright! Careful there, people!" Newt shouts shrilly. Hannibal's men move in a sweet coffee maker and a box of bagels, but more importantly, Newt can see the lab equipment coming in, and that dissection table is the most beautiful thing he's ever laid eyes on. He quickly amends this statement when he sees Hermann — held at gunpoint, but it's still Hermann — and the cadets walking in.

"Hey there!" says Newt. They don't look super relieved to see him, which honestly is offensive. But then Hermann wraps him in a hug, and Newt can feel his cane digging into his spine, but _wow_ , Hermann is hugging him. And in public!

"Newt, what is going on here?" Hermann asks, but then his face drops in horror as he sees something behind them.

Newt spins around and sees the kaiju brain. "Oh. Oops. Sorry. Hermann? Meet Jeff."

"Jeff," Hermann says blankly.

"Yeah. Jeff. As in Jeff Goldblum, aka Dr. Ian Malcolm."

Hermann pulls up one of Newt's eyelids, which is something that really keeps happening to him a lot lately. "And have you been  _drifting_  with Jeff?"

"No! No more drifting with kaiju brains. Nah. He's just been keeping me company while I waited for you guys."

"Jeff," Hermann spits with disdain. "I thought you hated Jurassic Park now."

It's true. Newt hasn't been able to rewatch it lately, considering the fact that Malcolm's "your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn't stop to think if they should" speech kinda feels like a direct attack nowadays.

He just shrugs instead. "Eh. It felt right."

"So what are we doing here?" asks the Russian boy. Ilya? Shit. Newt's had a lot going on, and the names are slipping from his mind.

"We are uh, we're solving a little problem for Mr. Chau so we can get on with things and head back home. You remember the Rippers, Hermann?"

"Yes. Of course I do."

"Yeah, well they seem to be closing up Sankaku every time Hannibal cuts him open."

Hermann sighs. "And your job is to reprogram them to stop. But you're stuck and can't do it on your own, so you've asked for my assistance."

"Uh, yep. Pretty much. You _are_  a genius."

The tips of Hermann's ears turn a bit pink, but he agrees to help. "If only to get us back home. You've made arrangements to acquire some samples of your own I assume?"

"Duh. Who do you think I am?" Newt moves to his new coffee setup and pours Hermann a mug with three spoonfuls of sugar, the way he knows he likes it. "Bagels? Help yourself," he tells the cadets, and they swoop in to grab some. "Anyway dude, I'm going to start chopping open some of these Rippers so I can try and get a feel for how I did this the first time." He sets the mug by the computer, assuming that's where Hermann will sit, but when he turns around, the most shocking sight is before him.

Hermann has stripped down to his sweater vest, pulling on both gloves and an apron. He marches over to one of the tanks and hauls a dead Ripper out. "A good starting place, Newt," he says, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Newt is in complete and utter shutdown. He hooks his cane on the edge of the table, then grabs a scalpel and slices the Ripper open in a perfect start to a Virchow dissection. "It might help if we get a look at what we're dealing with here."

 _Okay, Newt_ , he thinks to himself. _How do we feel about this here? This is Hermann "no kaiju entrails on my side of the room" Gottlieb elbows deep in viscera. Are we okay with this?_ He blinks for a moment. _I think we find it pretty damn hot. Like, supernova levels of attractive. There's nothing quite as sexy as a man who smells like ammonia. Okay. Good. Glad to see we're all on the same page here._  

So he shakes his head, grabs his own gloves and scalpel and dives into another Ripper. "Anyone else wanna help?" he asks the cadets. At least two of them look slightly queasy, but they all shake their heads.

"I don't know anything about biology," Amara says.

"Wait, really? Not even from, fuck, what school are you supposed to be in at seventeen… You're not in grad school yet, right?"

Hermann scoffs at him, one hand full of Ripper guts, and are there actually hearts floating around Newt's head or is he imagining them? "Newton, I think they'd be in high school, but considering the _war_  and the fact they enlisted far younger than PPDC should allow, I doubt they've had much scientific schooling at all."

Newt levels a glance at them. "So if I say the word 'eukaryote,' none of you have any idea what that means at all?"

"You care about what now?" Suresh says, and Newt's jaw drops.

"Incredible." But then Hermann is laying out organs in a neat little row, and Newt is distracted again.

 

* * *

 

"Hey, brother. It's Tendo again. Just calling to ask if you know how the good doctors Geiszler and Gottlieb are doing. They've been up there a couple days now, and I can't get ahold of them. Not trying to cause panic, but they left all their luggage here unpacked, and I'm getting a little worried. Call me back, okay, Beckett?"

 

* * *

 

"Did you just calculate that integral in your head?" Hermann asks incredulously.

"Yep," says Newt. He's too busy typing in a few more numbers to give Hermann his full attention. Without taking his eyes from his screen, he turns his face to the side, mouth open. Hermann holds up the bagel they're sharing and helps him take a bite.

The cadets are murmuring softly behind them, intent on a dissection Newt has been helping them through. Suresh dry heaves briefly but makes another slight incision to match the diagram. "Now what?" he asks.

"One sec!" Newt says with his mouth full. "Computer's yours, Hermann." He stands up and rolls Hermann in his chair to the center of the keyboard, then jogs over to the table. "Alright. So you found the liver? Someone show me which one it is."

"This one," answers Vik.

"That's right! And what does a liver do?"

Ilya's hand shoots up. "Detoxifies chemicals and metabolizes drugs!"

"Great! Okay, so what's this here?"

Hermann smiles and finishes the bagel. As sad as he is to tune out Newt teaching biology, he needs to focus on the screen in front of him. Output is at seventy-eight percent, and they need at least ninety before they tell Hannibal it's safe to test.

Jeff knocks on his tank wall, and Hermann fights the odd urge to flip him off.

 _Do it!_ says Brain-Newt, and Hermann scoots closer to the screen in retaliation. He wishes he had his reading glasses.

"Oh, gross!" Jinhai laughs behind him, and there's an odd squelching sound that reminds Hermann of the old days. God, it's hard to focus in here.

Somehow, he manages, working in silence for a few hours until Newt comes back with two mugs of coffee, perfectly sweetened to Hermann's taste.

"How's it going?" he asks, casually resting his chin on Hermann's head. "Any miraculous breakthroughs?"

Hermann carefully sips his coffee to avoid jostling Newt. "Mm. We're almost there. I'm not sure what we're missing, but it must be relatively small. We'll be ready in the next few days."

"Cool."

A pair of hands come up onto Hermann's shoulders, and he feels them massage into the muscles there. With a groan, he cranes his neck back, relishing in the stretch. Somehow, Newt doesn't feel the urge to break the silence, instead silently continuing until Hermann feels he's about to melt out of his seat. Even the cadets are quiet, and sleep is pulling at him all at once. He misses his actual bed, much more comfortable than the cots Chau has provided. He misses food that isn't a bagel and he misses exercise and interior heating.

Newt groans and slumps his head onto Hermann's shoulder, arms wrapping around him.

Hermann thinks that maybe losing all those things is worth this.

"Come help me prep this dissection," Newt mumbles into his neck, and Hermann shivers.

"Tomorrow. We can do it tomorrow."

"Mmhm."

 _Turn your head and you can kiss him_ , Brain-Newt says.

Hermann stops breathing.

"You okay?" asks Newt, lifting up and ruining the moment.

"Yes… I mean, yes." Then quick as lightning, something shoots down Hermann's brain stem, and he shouts. "I have it! Newton, I have it!" His fingers take off across the keyboard, and Newt leans over his shoulder to watch him type.

"Holy shit, you _genius_! How did we miss that?"

Output rockets up to ninety-six percent, and Newt cackles with glee.

"Newt," Hermann says, turning in his chair and holding out his hand. "I do believe we just _owned_  that bad boy."

And Newt bypasses his hand altogether and swoops straight in for a hug.

 

* * *

 

"Yep, surprise. It's Tendo again. Anything yet? Call me back."

 

* * *

 

Ilya had run straight out of the afterparty the moment he heard.

The poor medical assistant had looked at him, shocked, as he'd sprinted through the halls.

Suresh. Suresh was _alive_.

He burst into the post-op room, shaking and struggling to catch his breath.

Suresh was propped up in bed, his torso and legs a giant mass of plaster cast and white bandage wrappings. "Hey man."

Ilya had never felt such a conflict of emotions. He was so glad to see him, but so sad to know what he had done. That had been his fault. _His_  bid for glory. _His_  misguided self-confidence at a time that what they needed was the measured caution and methodical consideration he always envied Suresh for having.

Two halves of a whole, the PPDC booklet had said. When you find your drift partner, you'll find in them reflected everything you are and everything you wish you could be.

Emotion had choked its way up his esophagus, squeezing tears down his cheeks as he ran up to gently hug Suresh. "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I was foolish. I'm sorry."

But Suresh had smiled and grabbed Ilya's face in bandaged hands. "I'm fine. I forgive you."

And Ilya had broken down all over again. "This was pretty unforgivable."

"No, what was unforgivable was you showing me that stupid YouTube video before we rocketed to Mount Fuji. In comparison? This was nothing."

Ilya laughed through his tears. "I'll make it up to you. I swear."

"Okay. You could start with a shower." Suresh got a facefull of blanket for his trouble.

"Screw you, man. It's a _musk_. And even if there's a _bit_  of an odor, I just helped save the world, so it's understandable I'd get a bit sweaty."

"Nah, Ilya, that's _rank_. That's just straight up… They'll have to put me on oxygen after this. Help! Nurse! My drift partner is suffocating me!"

They were still laughing when the medical assistant finally walked back in.

 

* * *

 

Despite the snow and frigid wind, Hermann's hand was sweating in Newt's. He squeezed it tighter, keeping them both shoved deep in the pockets of his parka, as Newt shivered violently next to him.

"You insufferable little man. I _told_  you to dress warmer," Hermann sniffed.

"How was I supposed to know we'd get kidnapped and leave all our stuff behind? I had a coat packed!"

Rolling his eyes, Hermann unzipped and pulled Newt in. "If you let the cold in, I'll kick you back out." They squeezed in close, and Newt sadly freed his hand so he could hold the front shut around them.

The cadets all had their coats on, but Amara's nose was bright red and Suresh kept sniffling every few seconds.

Finally Hannibal walked up with his team. Even in the snow they stood out in their dark, eery outfits and giant harvesting equipment. Men in hazmat suits followed people pushing tanks of ammonia, and every other member seemed to be equipped with a chainsaw.

"Alright!" Hannibal roared over the wind. "We gotta move fast! You know the drill!" He nodded at Newt, who shivered and pulled his tablet from one of Hermann's pockets. The air rushed into the parka, but their eyes were too busy on the screen to care. A satellite image of Sankaku appeared, covered in small, light blue dots representing the Rippers.

"We're ready on our end!" Newt squeaked.

Hannibal gave his team a nod, and they started chopping into the kaiju's side. Almost immediately, the Ripper dots began to race toward them, but Newt used a half-frozen finger to redirect and push them away. They kept trying to cycle back around, but by staying at it, Newt held them at bay. "It's working!"

Over the next hour, the cadets took turn on the tablet. Everyone was shivering, and even Hannibal looked weary. Preservationists hauled away tank after tank of giant organs and skin samples, and Newt had to take a look at each one, slapping a red sticker on the ones he wanted. Hannibal frowned at how many he was marking, but didn't say anything.

After only two hours, they called it a day, leaving the Rippers to repair the damage as best as they could. The group piled into Hannibal's armored cars and drove back to the base of operations.

There was a celebration that evening. Half the people were glad to know their miserable days on Mount Fuji were coming to an end, and the other half were thrilled to see a new source of money coming in.

The cadets were high on the excitement, calling out organs and their functions, eager for Newt's praise. He was so happy to have new students, even though they weren't the best of the best like he'd taught at MIT. But that never _was_  Newt's plan, was it? Back before the possession, he and Hermann had talked about leading open-enrollment classes that could be filmed and uploaded online. Universally-accessible knowledge, they had called it. Maybe it was ten years later than they'd hoped, but they could still do that, Hermann figured.

He let the subtle warmth of the warehouse thaw him out. Newt ran straight for Jeff's tank, eager to tell him what they had been up to. Hermann sagged onto his cot, waiting for Newt to come join him. When it appeared he was being ignored in favor of the kaiju brain, he cleared his throat loudly.

"Newton."

"Hmm? Yeah, Hermann?"

"Would you leave the biologist brain alone and come here?"

"Dude, Dr. Malcolm wasn't a biologist. Have you ever seen Jurassic Park?"

Hermann bristled. "It was never a Lars-approved film, and by the time I was out of the house, I had bigger things to deal with."

Newt nodded. "Uh, yeah, well. Ian Malcolm was a mathematician."

"He was?"

"Yeah. He, uh…" Newt glanced away to where the cadets were chatting with some of Chau's men setting up a card game. They were all thoroughly engrossed, and no one was looking at the two scientists curled up on an uncomfortable cot, with only the greenish glow of a kaiju brain tank for light. "Well, he was a _chaotician_ , whatever that is. But basically a mathematician. He had this uh… This whole monologue about nonlinear equations and um, strange attractions…"

Hermann's tongue darts out to wet his lips, and Newt stares at it, hypnotized. "Well, Newt? How… How did it go?"

"Go what? How did what go?"

A warm, honest smile morphed onto Hermann's face. "The monologue."

"Right… Well. So it kinda went like this." Newt leans across to grab a cold cup of coffee from earlier that morning. He sets it between his legs to hold it, then gently takes Hermann's hand and holds it out over the bed. "So he's a mathematician who studies Chaos Theory. And that's like, the study of unpredictability in complex systems."

Hermann nods, seemingly transfixed on where Newt's hand is curled around his own. "The Butterfly Effect."

"Yeah. Exactly. 'A butterfly can flap its wings in Peking and in Central Park you get rain instead of sunshine.'"

"I know that."

"I was just quoting the movie."

"Oh. Sorry."

Newt pulls Hermann's hand closer. "In any case, you weren't supposed to know that. So then I have to explain it to you. With an example."

"If you're Ian Malcolm here, who am I?"

"Shut up, Hermann. You're Dr. Ellie Sattler, but that doesn't matter. Okay, so I show you, like this." Newt dips his finger into the coffee mug and lets a drop fall from his hand onto Hermann's. The brown liquid hits a knuckle and rolls toward Hermann's thumb and onto the floor. "Don't move. If I do it again now, which way is it going to roll?" Hermann opens his mouth to answer, but Newt interrupts him. "Remember you don't know anything about this."

Hermann rolls his eyes. "It will fall the same way."

Newt takes another drop of coffee and drips it in the same spot, but this time it slides down the other side of Hermann's hand until it hits the floor. "See? It changed. Why?" He continues before Hermann can answer. "It's the principle of tiny variations. The orientations of the hairs on your hand, the amount of blood distending in your vessels, imperfections in the skin…"

"Imperfections?" Hermann scoffs, and Newt gives him a beaming smile that lights their corner more than even Jeff's tank.

"Microscopic ones that never repeat and vastly affect the outcome. That's what?"

"Unpredictability," answers Hermann.

 _Kiss him_ , says Brain-Newt.

 _Kiss me_ , says Mind-Hermann.

And Newt leans in and does just that.

Hermann's mouth is wide and dry, and his nose is freezing cold where it bumps Newt's cheek, but then Hermann pulls his hands free and winds them into Newt's hair even though there's coffee on one, but it really doesn't matter anymore.

"God, sometimes it's like you read my mind," Hermann mumbles against Newt's mouth. He pushes up and over until he's hovering over Newt, all bony elbows and sharp knees.

"Your hip…" Newt tries, but then Hermann grinds down against him, and his breath hiccups away. "There's people… like right there… on the other side of the… brain…"

Hermann leans up and away, which is _not_  the outcome Newt wanted. "Newton, are you okay with this?" 

"Yes!"

"Fine, but then why do you insist on finding reasons to stop?"

Newt is bright red, and his hair is even worse than usual. "Because I thought _you_  might be uncomfortable doing this pretty much in public and right by kaiju viscera."

Hermann reaches a hand out to Jeff, who extends an appendage in return. "It's not like he has eyes. And it kind of sets the mood, don't you think?"

The blush on Newt's cheeks darkens. "Oh my god."

"Besides. We aren't undressed. It's just a bit of necking. They're teenagers. They'll understand."

Newt reaches up and grabs two fistfuls of that ugly parka to pull Hermann back down. He lifts his hips to grind a little more and bites gently on the end of Hermann's lip. In retaliation, Hermann pulls away and kisses a trail along Newt's jawline, using his hair to pull his head back for better access.

Finally he lifts back up, panting and says, "Move in with me," just as Newt says, "I love watching you do dissections."

They blink at each other.

"I'm serious," Newt babbles. "The way you hold a scalpel and how comfortable you are with it now and the way you snap on your gloves like some sort of freaky sex doctor, I just— Wait, what?"

Hermann looks down at his own hands for a moment, before meeting Newt's eyes again. "Move in with me."

"Dude… Like. Are you asking me out? As in, I get to hold your hand and rub your back and make you coffee and eat off your plate?"

"Newt, we already do those things."

"Oh." Newt pauses to think. "Oh shit."

"Also just so you know, everyone back at Moyulan already thinks we're a couple."

"What?! Why?" Newt sits up, and now Hermann is kind of awkwardly in his lap.

"Uh… Long story. I tried to signal for help during our arrival check in, and it… didn't really… work." 

"You are _so_  telling me the whole story later, but that card game will only hold people's attention for so long, and I'd like to get back to this."

Hermann sighs. "Please shut up." Then he leans in to do it himself.

 

* * *

 

"Hey, Choi. Sorry I missed your calls. I've been unplugged, trying to spend some time with Mako. Pentecost's kid said they checked in about a week ago. Think we should touch base sooner? Call me when you get this. This is Raleigh, by the way."

 

* * *

 

The next two days are a flurry of further harvests until finally the corpse is so debilitated, the Rippers can't keep up any longer. The disintegration process takes hold all at once, and Hannibal's team has its hands full neutralizing the Kaiju Blue before the bloodmist can take off.

They part ways on incredibly good terms, Hannibal clapping Newt on the back with a, "Good work, you genius bastard," and giving Hermann a handshake so strong it nearly knocks him over.

The cadets wave to the people who taught them card games, and Hermann hopes Lambert and Pentecost won't trace that particular skill back to him in any way.

He pushes Newt aside to climb into the driver's seat. "I'm taking us back," he says firmly, and Newt doesn't argue. The cadets climb in behind them, and the scary woman with the tattoo hooks the trailer of Newt's samples to the back. She gives Hermann a thumbs up and he shakily returns it with a salute.

"Remember," calls Hannibal. "You give me a forty-eight hour head start."

"Cross my heart and hope to die!" Newt shouts back.

Hermann starts the engine and takes off down the mountain. They pull up where the barricade was once sitting, and the cadets hop out and into the ATV cart to drive it back. Just as Hermann starts driving away, Vik revs their engine, flashing a dangerous smile in their direction. Suresh and Ilya flip them off with both hands and Amara and Jinhai taunt them verbally.

"Newton," Hermann says carefully. "How well did you secure the kaiju samples?"

"Uh… Pretty damn good? We could flip this car and they'd be fine."

"I'm holding you to that theory."

"Wait, what?"

Then Hermann floors it, and it's Newt who screams and grabs for the handle over the door. Alongside them, the cadets laugh and yell at them, racing down from the summit. 

"And _that_ , is unpredictability!" Hermann shouts, and Newt laughs his squackiest laugh yet.

 

* * *

 

"Come on. Pick up. Pick up," Tendo groans as his phone rings.

Finally it connects, and Raleigh's voice crackles tinny across the line. "Choi? Hey. Sorry about the telephone tag. You okay?"

"I think Gottlieb and Geiszler are in trouble. They've been missing for a week, with no contact, and they still left all their luggage here unpacked."

Raleigh blows out a breath. "Shit. Let me get Mako on the line here. Hold up. Hey, Mako. It's Tendo."

As he waits for Mako to come onto the phone, Tendo hears a noise outside. It sounds very much like loud engines and screaming kids. He peeks out the window and sees a black car and the borrowed cart tearing down the road.

"Marshal Mori," Mako says into the mouthpiece. "What's wrong Tendo?"

"Uh… Sorry. False alarm."

"What?"

Tendo watches the cart full of teens screech to a halt just before the car does. The windows roll down, and Jesus Christ that's _Gottlieb_  in the driver's seat.

"We totally won!" screams one of the cadets.

"Yeah, well, next time we won't be towing a trailer of guts!" calls back a voice that can only be Newt. He opens his door into a MFPF worker's crate and they drop it onto the ground, where it cracks open.

"Tendo?" Mako tries again.

"My apologies, Marshal," he sighs. "The scientists just got back and they're already— Hey! What are you shitheads trying to do! Sorry! Gotta go! Say hi to Raleigh for me!" 

Then he hangs up.

Mako frowns down at the phone.

"He tell you what he's worried about?" Raleigh asks.

She sighs. "No. It seems Newt and Gottlieb just got back and they're already causing mayhem in the facility."

"Oh. Okay." Raleigh shakes his head. "I really don't get those two."

Mako smiles as he traces his thumb gently against the scars on her face. "Does anyone?"

 

* * *

 

"Welcome home!" Newt shouts from the backroom as Hermann lets himself in. "How were the lines?"

Hermann slides out of his shoes and awkwardly hoists the bag of shopping onto the kitchen counter. "Not too bad. Moved pretty quickly." He spies the meatloaf on the counter under a glass dish to keep it warm. "Is this for me?"

Newt walks out, his sleeves are pushed up and he's in a pair of basketball shorts, so Hermann can see the full array of his tattoos. "It's for both of us. I didn't want to eat without you."

Walking to the table, Hermann sits down into a chair, pulling out the one next to him as well.

"I uploaded our latest video! Seems to already be a hit. People eat up your Breach prediction shit; I really don't get it."

"Some people don't like watching dissections I suppose."

"Well they better get used to it, because we still got a lot more information to glean from Sankaku."

Hermann laughs quietly and takes the fork from Newt's hand. He carefully sections off a bite to eat himself, then spears a second piece and pops it into Newt's mouth.

"Not bad," Newt says with his mouth full, and Hermann agrees.

"How is Jeff taking to the new lab?" Hermann asks.

"Oh, just great. He's all wriggly and excited to be there. You can feel it."

"Mm. Good, I'm glad." A buzz from Hermann's cell phone interrupts their dinner. He checks it and finds a text from Amara.

"Newton, Amara would like to know if you'd be willing to host the movie night for the cadets tomorrow."

"Are Jake and Nate coming?"

Hermann shrugs. "I presume."

"Uh, yeah. Sure. I'm down if you are."

Hermann starts to text back. "You think you're ready to conquer your fears?" 

Newt jams far too much meatloaf into Hermann's mouth, making him grumble. "Sure. Why not?"

After choking down a glass of water, Hermann manages to swallow. "Good. I'm quite glad. It'll be my first time seeing Jurassic Park, you know."

"Oh shit! That's right! If you fall for young Jeff Goldblum, I won't hold it against you."

Hermann laughs and reaches out to hold Newt's hand. "I'll confess I've fallen for quite a different rockstar."

Newt beams. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> is there anything more romantic than jeff goldblum? i think not


End file.
